


What You Get

by EveJobs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Evil!Ford, M/M, Rimming, i am so so sorry, set directly after ATOTS, terrible non-con smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveJobs/pseuds/EveJobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night after Ford comes back, Stanley finds himself unable to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Get

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tough one. I started this fic the week after ATOTS first aired, but then I got stuck for a long time. Which is a shame because I totally called the whole rift thing, but oh well.
> 
> PLEASE mind the tags before reading. This is some bad, bad shit. Sort of based on the Eviltwin AU, but with Ford being a lot more apathetic towards Stanley I guess.

Stanley stared at the ceiling. How could he possibly sleep after a day like this? The day he had been waiting for over half of his life. The day he finally brought his brother back.

Everything he’d worked for in the last thirty years, it had all come down to this. He’d finally accomplished his goal, and all he’d gotten out of it in the end was a punch in the face and this lingering feeling of bitter emptiness.

“I honestly don’t know what I expected,” he grunted to himself. After all this time, he suddenly realized that he had never even thought about what would happen after he opened the portal. It just hadn’t mattered to him. Bringing Ford back had been his end goal, his only purpose in life. Well, at least until he met the kids.

_As far as I’m concerned, they’re the only family I have left_. That’s what he’d said to his brother, and he meant it. The time he had spent taking care of Dipper and Mabel this summer had been the closest thing to happiness he’d gotten in over forty years. He wouldn’t allow them to get dragged into this mess. He’d do anything to protect them.

Stan sighed. _That’s a lie and you know it_. _If you truly wanted to protect them, you’d have sent them home to their parents weeks ago. You know how dangerous this town is. You just can’t stand the thought of being alone again._

Ignoring the intrusive voice in the back of his head, he rolled over and got out of bed. There was no point in trying to fall asleep. _Might as well go watch TV._

Just as he left his bedroom, a sudden weird noise came from the basement. It sounded like some sort of warping effect straight out of a bad 80’s sci-fi movie.

“What the hell?” Stan said, startled, “If Ford is messing with that damn portal again, I swear to god…”

He quickly made his way to the hidden elevator, getting more furious with each buzzing sound that got emitted from his brother’s hideout.

As Stanley bolted into the underground lab, he could see his twin hunched over the lab desk, fidgeting with the switches on the control board. To his relief, the portal in the other room was still inactive, although there was some static charge building up around the edges of its inner circle.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stan shouted, “Are you trying to get us all killed with that thing?”

Startled, Ford turned around to look at his brother. Apparently he hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Relax,” he said, holding out his hands in front of him, “I’m just stabilizing it.”

“Stabilizing?” Stan asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ford sighed. “You really didn’t read any of my warnings, did you? If left unattended, the residual energy of the transfer could cause a rift in the-“

“Oh, spare me the technobabble, will ya?” Stan interrupted, “I don’t wanna hear about it.”

His brother frowned. “Fine. Just stand back. Unlike you, I actually know what I’m doing.” With that, he focused his attention on the control panel again, pressing a few buttons and scribbling notes in his journal.

Stan tried to launch into some sort of clever retort, but came up with nothing. Instead, he just proceeded to stand around in awkward silence for a few minutes, watching his brother work. He wondered if Ford wanted him to leave. _He probably doesn’t even care either way._

Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, “So, uh… are you gonna fiddle with that thing all night, or…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m handling it,” Ford answered without looking up. “Why are you even still here? Just go to bed.” He waved his hand in Stan’s general direction.

Stan hesitated.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled, scratching the back of his neck, “I just thought we… well, I guess I just realized, I didn’t even ask you. What happened to you? In that… thing, I mean. What was it like?”

Ford stopped what he was doing and turned around to glare at Stan in a way that was almost sinister.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Stanley took a step back. “That bad, huh?” He laughed nervously.

His brother smirked. “What, are you feeling guilty all of a sudden?”

“N-No.” Stan put his hands up defensively. “Sorry for asking, I guess.”

Ford started walking towards him. “You just don’t get it, do you? Do you have _any_ idea what you put me through? What your stupidity has cost me?”

Stan furrowed his brow. “Well, obviously I _don’t_ know, since you’re not telling me anything!” he shouted. ”And I’m _so_ _sorry_ I’m not a _genius_ like you! Maybe if I was smarter, I wouldn’t have wasted my life trying to bring you back, you ungrateful bastard!”

Ford grabbed the front of Stan’s shirt, closing most of the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart. “You shouldn’t have come down here, Stanley.” he growled, “The kids aren’t around to save you this time. I’m not going to hold back.”

A shudder went through Stan’s body. In a fit of madness – or maybe because it was the only self-defense he could think of – he pressed his lips to his brother’s’, closing his eyes and silently praying this wouldn’t get him punched again. For a few seconds, Ford seemed to be too shocked to react, not responding to the kiss but not rejecting it either. Despite himself, Stan felt a tiny seed of hope blooming in his chest. Then, the feeling was quickly extinguished by a pair of hands shoving him off violently.

Caught off guard, Stan stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. His brother stood over him, fuming with rage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I… I don’t know,” Stanley stammered. A ball of dread was forming in the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry! I thought-“

“You thought what?” Ford interrupted, “That after all this time, I’d still- …wait. Is this why you brought me back?”

“What? No, of course not!” Stan clenched his fists and looked down at the ground, avoiding his brother’s accusing gaze. “It’s not like that. I… I just…” He was grasping for words, words that would explain everything, that would make Ford _understand_ , but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he felt his eyes welling up, which was impossible. Stan never cried. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued, “I brought you back because… even after everything that happened, you’re still my brother. You’re… you’re all I ever had, Ford.” Stan’s vision was beginning to blur and he felt something wet drip on his hand. He knew that Ford could probably see it anyway, but he still couldn’t muster up the courage to look him in the eye.

“You’re pathetic.”

The words cut through Stanley like a knife. _So that’s it, then._ He wiped the tears off his face with the back of his forearm and stood up slowly, turning his back on Ford in a vain attempt to regain some of his dignity. “I guess there’s nothing more to say. I’ll just… go.”

He took one step forward.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.”

Stan gasped in shock as his wrists were grabbed from behind. Once again he became aware of how much stronger Ford had become. If Mabel hadn’t interrupted their fight earlier in the day, he probably would have gotten his ass kicked. In less than a second, Stan’s arms were tied behind his back, leaving him completely immobilized.

“Ford, what are you…?”

“Be quiet. There’s nothing more to say, right?” Ford moved in closer and began nuzzling his shoulder. Stan had to suppress a surprised whimper as his brother slowly moved up his neck, placing a few tentative bites on the sensitive skin.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Ford breathed into his ear, “It’s why you came down here in the first place.”

Before Stan could answer, Ford started dragging him across the room and proceeded to shove him onto the desk forcefully. Stan had almost no time to recover from the impact, as Ford quickly unfastened his belt and used it to bind Stan’s hands together behind his back.

“I have to say, I’m flattered,” Ford said as he pulled the belt tight and clasped it shut, “Even after all these years, you still come crawling back to me. You couldn’t even stay away for one night, could you?”

Stan squirmed against his restraints. “That’s not what happened. You were making noise-“

“Save your excuses. And stay still,” Ford ordered, sliding his hands under the waistband of Stan’s shorts and quickly pushing them down. Stan shuddered as the cold air hit him, feeling completely exposed and helpless. Ford’s hands quickly returned to grab at his bare ass, kneading his flesh roughly.

A low moan escaped Stanley as one of Ford’s hands travelled downwards, teasing closer and closer to his entrance. “Enjoying yourself?” Ford retrieved his hand, only to bring it back down on Stan’s ass with a loud smack, hitting that sweet spot just on the back of his inner thigh.

Stan whimpered. Despite the rough treatment, he could feel himself getting hard already. After thirty years of being a miserable loner, spending every night in the basement trying to fix the portal, he wasn’t exactly used to being touched like this. It was overwhelming and Stan wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. Everything was going way too fast.

Ford on the other hand seemed intent to not waste any time. He quickly went to his knees and spread Stanley’s cheeks apart with both hands. Stan barely had time to register what Ford was doing. _I can’t believe this is happening_ , was his last coherent thought before he felt his brother’s tongue enter him, his face pressed flush against him, and Stan had no way of muffling the groan of pleasure that burst out of him.

Ford’s tongue felt slippery and almost cool against his heated insides, swirling around roughly, slicking up his entrance and working him open with deliberate little thrusts. Stanley found himself pressing into the touch, needing more, pathetic little keens escaping his throat, and Ford groaned into him in response, tilting his head to _bite_ the inside of his ass-cheek. Two fingers quickly came to replace Ford’s tongue, pushing into him hard and fast and suddenly Stan was seeing stars as his brother curled his fingers slightly and hit his prostate dead on.

Ford continued working his fingers inside him, moving so forcefully that Stan’s whole body was rocking back and forth on the desk, making him wish for something to hold on to, his hands still immobilized behind his back. His growing erection rubbed against the edge of the desk with each thrust, a little too painful to actually be pleasurable and Stan just couldn’t take it anymore, pleading quietly. “Ford… please…”

To his surprise, it actually worked. Ford retreated and stood up slowly, leaning forward to place his hand against Stan’s neck, carding his fingers through his hair and pulling his head back lightly.

“Beg me.”

Stan swallowed thickly. He wanted to cry, to scream, to tell his brother to stop, but all he managed was a weak “I… I won’t…”

He could practically _hear_ Ford’s smirk. “You won’t?” A broad, six-fingered hand travelled down his back, along his spine, causing a tingling feeling in the back of Stan’s neck. “What, are you telling me you don’t want this?” Ford’s hand moved around to the front, caressing Stan’s soft belly in slow circles, moving further and further downwards with each stroke, until he deliberately brushed against his straining erection, eliciting a suppressed whimper. “Are you trying to deny how hard you are for me?” Ford gave an experimental tug, earning a surprised yelp from Stan.

“I know you want me.” Ford’s voice was low, next to Stan’s ear. “You want me to touch you.” He kept moving his hand along his length slowly, too slowly, too lightly, just enough to keep teasing these little desperate noises out of him. “You want me to fuck you.” He gave a hard squeeze at that, and Stan _lost it,_ moaning loudly, bucking his hips and thrusting into Ford’s hand. Ford quickly retaliated by removing his hand and pinning him against the desk again, the noticeable bulge in his pants rubbing against Stan’s bare ass.

“Say it!” he demanded.

Stanley gave in.

“Yes! You’re right, I want you, just please… please…” _not like this_ , he didn’t say.

Apparently, this was all the encouragement his brother needed. Ford made quick work of his pants and soon Stan could feel the head of his cock brushing against his entrance. Despite the preparation, he still felt an uncomfortable stretch as Ford slowly guided himself in. Stan sucked in a sharp breath. At least Ford had apparently had the decency to slick himself up with copious amounts of spit first, if nothing else.

Broad hands held onto Stan’s hips like a vice as his brother started building up a steady rhythm, keeping him from sliding across the desk, helpless as he was to control any of the movement they were engaged in. Stan found himself coming undone quickly, because fuck it all, he _had_ missed this, missed the feeling of Ford inside him, being this close to him, even at the price it usually came at.

Ford was not holding up well on his end either, thrusting into Stan with increased abandon and letting out broken moans. Stan briefly found himself wondering if his brother had ever gotten laid during his time in the portal, but the train of thought was promptly interrupted when Ford rammed into him deeply, hitting the sweet spot that had him seeing stars.

Stan groaned as the force of the thrust pushed him into the desk again, his throbbing erection pressing against the cold metal almost painfully. He whimpered, once again wishing for his hands to be free so that he could at least take care of himself.

As if reading his mind, six fingers suddenly wrapped around his cock again, this time with no intention of teasing, just pumping him frantically, tightly, and Stan only lasted mere _seconds_ before coming hard, falling apart completely in his brother’s hands, who quickly followed suit, shuddering as he spilled his seed inside Stanley and collapsed on top of him.

As Ford lay on top of him, completely spent and absent-mindedly nuzzling his neck, Stanley allowed himself to feel content for a few blissful seconds, and to let hope rear its ugly head again. These were the moments he lived for, the few instances of actual, unadulterated closeness and tenderness between them, and to experience it again after all this time suddenly made everything worth it; all the terrible shit he’d been through; this broken, abnormal, fucked up relationship that was the focal point of his whole miserable existence.

In the back of his mind, he knew that it wouldn’t last. And sure enough, he soon felt Ford get up and pull out of him, fumbling with the belt clasp for a few seconds before finally freeing his arms. He waited a short moment for Ford to further retreat before getting up slowly, stretching himself carefully. Everything hurt, but his arms and shoulders were definitely the worst, all stiffness and jolts of pain at every small movement.

Turning around, he saw that Ford had already pulled himself back together and was looking at one of those weird lab computers, facing away from him.

“You can get out now.”

Even when he was expecting them, the words still felt like a punch to his stomach. “But, Ford…” he protested weakly.

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Ford snapped, still refusing to look in his direction. “Now go. I’ve still got work to do here.”

Stanley knew that there was no way of getting through to Ford when he got like this. He quickly dressed himself and walked over to the elevator, all the while eyeing his brother to see if maybe he’d show some kind of reaction. When he got nothing, he simply sighed and pressed the button to open the door.

“Good night, Ford.”

No answer.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Stan’s back hit the wall, slowly sinking down until he was sitting on the floor.

“Should have stayed in bed,” he muttered, chuckling brokenly to himself as the elevator brought him back up into the home that wasn’t his anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry.


End file.
